No Destiny 1 - Winter Is Coming
by leaysaye
Summary: When Rick goes missing Daryl, worried to his core, starts musing about their budding, secret relationship. Rick/Daryl, slash. This is the first in a series. Major hurt/comfort. Illness. Sickfic.
1. Chapter 1

"They should have been back by now."

Lori stood in the doorway, rubbing her hands together nervously. She'd been rooted to the floor in that half-busted door frame almost an hour, Daryl knew. He'd kept tabs. Watching from across the room he felt the same unease, wishing he could display his worries half as openly. He wasn't the type. And of course, nobody knew about him and Rick.

"Come away from the door, you must be freezing." Hershel took Lori gently by the shoulders, let the door fall shut and guided her to the threadbare sofa.

"Where are they?" Lori was still worrying at her fingers, looking at Hershel with desperation. "They were only going to be out for a few hours, back by noon. And now the sun is almost gone."

Hershel held Lori's gaze. "Hey. There is no reason to worry yet. They'll have hunkered down somewhere for the night. Something must've held them up, and they knew they'd not make it back before dark."

Lori kept her eyes glued to Hershel's face, clearly willing herself to believe what he was saying. Finally she nodded.

Hershel brushed her cheek gently with one hand and smiled. Then he looked up at the others. "All right, everyone, time to get ready for bed. An early night will do us all good. No use worrying about something we can't change."

Daryl would have liked to agree, but he couldn't stop his mind racing. He helped to get them ready for the night. They'd been here three days already, the longest they'd stayed anywhere in over a month. The house was a drafty and dirty shack, but after being out in the freezing cold for a week, sleeping in their cars, it had been a relief. Now it felt like a trap.

Daryl stretched out on his blankets, between Lori and Carol. They were crowded as close together on the floor of the dingy living room as decency allowed, huddled for warmth that stayed elusive. It was the middle of December now, by their best reckoning, and Georgia got damn cold in winter. They never lit a fire if they were staying in one place more than a few hours. Fire had the tendency to draw walkers. They cooked well away from the house, when there was anything to cook at all.

Daryl turned over restlessly. It had been stupid of him to agree to Rick's plan. He replayed the conversation from that morning in his head

"We'll go fast and with force. Glenn, T-Dog and I'll be able to handle whatever we find. I need you to stay here, look after the others. You are our best hunter, and their best chance to survive if we don't find other food. Besides," and there was a tenderness in Rick's eyes which, more than anything, made Daryl relent, agree to the stupid plan. "You always do the heavy lifting. Take a break for once, do it for me. If anything happened to you I couldn't forgive myself."

It was true, they needed some decisive action. Their cars had no fuel left, and the food situation was beyond desperate. Daryl hadn't had more than a couple spoonfuls of squirrel stew for any meal in days.

He'd done his best finding something worth killing, never going too far from the house, but there was little to be had at this time of year, and with this many walkers around. And what he'd been able to kill had largely gone to Lori, Carl and Beth. Daryl had insisted, and he knew Hershel and the others had given up most of their rations to them as well.

At midnight, not having slept a wink, Daryl got up to relieve Maggie from watch. Daryl would have kept watch all night, but Maggie had insisted. Daryl knew she was worried about Glenn just as much as Lori – or him - were worried about Rick. Daryl hadn't challenged her, and the thought of Maggie and Glenn's happy reunion if the men showed up during the night had eased his conscience when he'd left her out on the porch on her own.

After Maggie had gone inside, looking as sad and lost as Daryl felt he paced outside the small house in the middle of the clearing for hours. He knew this wasn't smart, he should conserve his energy. Daryl wouldn't be much use to anyone on no sleep and no food, but he couldn't help it. He wondered if he'd be as worried if it was someone other than Rick missing - or if he and Rick hadn't started this... thing, whatever it was.


	2. Chapter 2

It had started back on the farm, right after they'd been sure Carl would survive. Or maybe even before, Daryl wasn't sure. At first all it had been was glances that lingered a little too long, hands that touched by accident a little too often. Daryl had thought he was imagining it for the longest time.

But it had kept happening. Rick would seek him out to discuss strategies about this and that, and he'd listen to what Daryl had to say, taking him seriously and making him feel part of the group, part of Rick's plans.

Sometimes, Daryl suspected, Rick didn't actually need his input but he came to Daryl anyway. Sat down next to him, talked, listened. And looked at Daryl, with those quizzical, beautiful blue eyes. Daryl started looking forward to these moments more than anything, but for a long time had never sought out Rick in the same way.

He couldn't have explained why, other than the gut feeling that whatever Rick was up to, he, Daryl, must be misinterpreting his intentions. Why would Rick, their leader, husband to Lori and father to Carl, the man who had it all, be interested in him? A redneck who'd been nothing before this, and who was still at best peripherally part of their group?

And then they had discovered Sophia in the barn.

Afterwards, Daryl had been sitting on a log near the RV to have a smoke. He didn't want to leave Carol on her own, but he'd needed a break from the gloom that surrounded her. Knowing all their attempts to find the girl had been meaningless from the start made him feel almost physically sick.

Suddenly Rick had been there. Daryl, who could usually hear walkers or people many yards off, had been so wrapped up in his own misery he hadn't heard Rick approach. It didn't make him startle, not exactly, which Daryl thought odd thinking about later, but it hadn't registered at the time. He must have become really used to Rick for it not to cause his normal skittish reaction.

"Hershel has disappeared."

Rick came and sat next to Daryl. That also didn't ring the usual alarm bells. In fact, through the haze of his pain, Daryl found the closeness of the other man comforting.

"Glenn and I will go looking for him, but I wanted to check how she is first." Rick glanced at the RV.

"Not good. Had t'come out, too depressin'."

At that moment Rick had actually leaned into him. Daryl's body went rigid, he couldn't help it. Instincts honed to avoid contact, whether soothing or cruel, were so ingrained he couldn't suppress them. He wasn't sure Rick noticed. He didn't move away, in fact, he stayed perfectly still. So Daryl stayed still, too.

The next words were very low. "Are you ok?"

The three small words, the real concern in Rick's voice were like gentle fingers stroking Daryl's dark mind. He didn't look up, didn't move even to smoke his cigarette. But he did answer.

"Gotta be."

Daryl tried to put his gratitude, some of what he was feeling, into the words. Rick gave no indication that he'd understood, or that he hadn't. The next moment he was back on his feet, leaving a vacant spot in Daryl's consciousness.

Rick didn't look at Daryl as he walked away. "We'll be back soon."


	3. Chapter 3

Lori came out of the house at daybreak, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. She looked crestfallen as if she'd hoped that Rick would have appeared miraculously and waited for her out here. Daryl, still pacing, felt sorry for her. He'd tried to avoid Lori during the last three months, feeling guilty and confused. She had just begun to show, and every time Daryl noticed the growing bump he felt both better about him and Rick, and worse.

Better because at least he knew that Rick needed and deserved the distraction, the support, he got from Daryl. Worse because he didn't want to make Lori any more unhappy. It was clear to them all that she was suffering, genuinely regretting what had happened.

"Anything?" she asked now. Daryl shook his head.

Making up his mind about what he'd been brooding over all night he looked at Lori. He still hardly ever looked any of them directly in the eye, and he could see the surprise registering on Lori's face.

"I'll go lookin' for them. Jus' waited til one of y' was up." She started to protest, but he cut her off. "Tell Hershel, but not righ'way."

Lori hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you, Daryl. I appreciate it."

Daryl didn't reply. He didn't mean to lie to her, but he didn't know what to say, either. He wasn't doing it for her at all. He was doing it for himself, and for Rick.


	4. Chapter 4

Things had not progressed any further until after the farm was overrun. They had been caught up in events too much for anything else. Daryl also had a feeling that Rick was avoiding him, but he didn't let himself acknowledge the vague sense of disappointment.

He tried to chalk up Rick's earlier behavior to his own overheated imagination, but he couldn't stop fantasizing about the other man when he lay down in his tent at night. He always wondered later if his brutal treatment of that boy Randall had anything to do with his unacknowledged frustration.

And then things had gone to hell. Dale getting killed later seemed like an almost insignificant introduction to a lesson in what the world was really like now. They'd lost so many that night, and it was a near miracle that even ten of them made it out more or less intact. And then of course there was the issue with Shane.

At first none of them knew what had happened between Shane and Rick out in that field. Or maybe Lori knew, but she didn't tell. The first few days had been almost frantic. Everyone was exhausted, grieving, in shock. Their hope of finding somewhere safe quickly evaporated as the days went by. They would hunker down in one house or another at night, only to find themselves surrounded by walkers in the morning, or even sooner.

They had been going for about two weeks, dodging what felt like the same walker herd again and again. The herd seemed to be growing daily, and they were unable to get ahead of it for long.

Then one night they'd made camp in a house situated in what must have been a prosperous outer suburb of Atlanta. The houses were large and spaced far apart, and they'd actually found plenty of food, and none of them would have to go to bed hungry that night.

They'd loaded up the cars with more provisions but had already talked about staying put for at least a few days. There had been fewer walkers that day, and for the first time since fleeing the farm was there such a thing as hope among them.

Daryl had taken first watch as he usually did, and had gone outside onto the veranda and settled himself down with his back against the enclosure. He felt strangely at peace after their almost proper dinner, and for the first time since the farm he let his mind really process events. He dug out a lighter and cigarettes which he'd found in the house and enjoyed the first smoke in two weeks.

The door to the house had opened a couple of minutes after Daryl had finished the first cigarette. He'd just been contemplating whether to smoke a second or make that one pack last as long as possible. He looked up and saw Rick stepping through the door, closing it softly behind himself.

"They're all settled." Rick's voice was tired, and Daryl, looking at him properly for the first time in what felt like ages, saw how exhausted he looked.

"Y'should be settlin' too, y'know."

Rick sat down next to Daryl and buried his head in his hands. He sighed.

"I just had to get away for a moment. From…"

Daryl thought he knew what Rick had been about to say, and the name hung between them almost palpably. Daryl didn't know what exactly had happened between Rick and his wife, but he knew that something was up.

As if reading Daryl's mind Rick said, "Lori is pregnant, and…"

Daryl didn't move or say anything, just waited for Rick to continue. This was a shock, regardless of what Rick said next. How could they bring a baby into this world, and keep it safe? But for now Daryl focused on Rick.

"It isn't mine, Daryl." And now Rick looked at him.

Daryl held his gaze, even though that had made him especially uncomfortable with Rick ever since the other man had stopped seeking him out.

"It's Shane's. I am almost certain."

Rick's voice sounded so miserable, Daryl's heart went out to him completely. Before realizing what he was doing he'd leaned against Rick's shoulder, wanting to give comfort, wanting him to know he wasn't alone.

Rick leaned into Daryl with another sigh. "It's all such bullshit, man. How are we ever going to get out of this? And now to top it all off…

"He was going to kill me, you know. Daryl, he'd been my best friend since high school. And he was going to kill me, and he slept with my wife." Now there was real anger in Rick's voice, too.

Daryl didn't know what to say. He'd never been good with this kind of situation, he'd never learned how. For wont of a better idea he placed a hand on Rick's arm where it hung loosely draped over his knees. He hadn't meant to but almost automatically started stroking the soft skin on the inside of Rick's arm, above the elbow just under Rick's T-Shirt sleeve.

Rick looked at him, and Daryl recognized this look from the time of the stolen glances at the farm. Suddenly, Rick leaned in and kissed Daryl. It was a hesitant, soft kiss, as much a question as a caress.

Daryl returned the kiss, not forcefully but with enough emphasis to make it clear that Rick could continue whatever he had on his mind. Rick did. He placed a hand behind Daryl's head and turned his body around to allow his other arm to come up behind Daryl's back.

They both leaned into the kiss, increasingly committing to it. Daryl could feel Rick's hand in the small of his back, pushing up his shirt and touching skin. He froze for a second, not wanting to disturb their moment but habitually unable to tolerate someone touching his back. Fortunately Rick didn't move his fingers from where they had come to rest and Daryl relaxed.

Daryl placed one hand on Rick's face and threaded the other one into the man's hair. He was becoming more and more aroused, but didn't want to make the next move before Rick was ready.

Again, Rick seemed to be reading his mind. He withdrew his own hand from Daryl's hair, took Daryl's hand in his and guided it down onto the front of his jeans. Daryl could feel Rick's erection, and started rubbing it through the fabric. Rick bucked into Daryl's hand with a moan, and Daryl increased the pressure.

Rick pulled out of the kiss to look at Daryl. His eyes were shining, but he seemed somehow far away at the same time. He reached for Daryl's pants, but Daryl pulled away.

"No. This time it's gonna be jus' you."

Rick nodded, and leaned back, giving Daryl better access. Daryl quickly undid the buttons on Rick's pants, reaching in and taking his cock in one hand. The other hand he placed on Rick's face again, shifted into a crouch, then straddled Rick. He leaned in for another kiss as he started to move his hand up and down Rick's erection in slow, deliberate strokes.

Rick moaned softly against his mouth and Daryl took the sound as a cue to increase the speed of his strokes. He could feel his own erection almost painfully inside his pants, but this was for Rick. He would take care of himself later, the time spent with Rick serving as the perfect memory.

Daryl wasn't worried that the others would catch them. It was late, and almost pitch black out now. There was no reason for any of them to come outside, and Daryl doubted that if someone looked through the small window by the door they were even discernable against the gloom. Besides, and Daryl had never thought this would float his boat, the proximity to Rick's wife and the others was part of the turn on.

Rick pulled away from the kiss, arching his back. His eyes closed, he let his head fall against the porch enclosure. His breathing was fast and shallow now, his lips slightly parted. Daryl could tell that he was almost riding the edge, and he increased the pressure on Rick's cock.

"Daryl…"

Rick's voice was husky, on the precipice, and a moment later his panting gave way to a low groan. His hips came up and Daryl could feel Rick's cock pulse into his hand. Daryl held on gently, kept one hand on Rick's cock and one on his chest as Rick rode out his bliss. He could feel the spunk cooling on his hand, and his own erection still very alive in his own pants.

Every single thing about this night had made him happy.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl knew where Rick, Glenn and T-Dog had been headed. There was a small town about six miles away from the house where they'd pitched camp. They had passed it a few times in the last three months, but it had been heavily infested with walkers and they had given it a wide berth.

From what they had been able to see from a distance there were several stores on the main street, and none of the buildings looked damaged. With their food situation getting so desperate Rick had finally decided that it was worth trying to break through the walkers and get to those stores.

It wasn't necessary for Daryl to use his tracking skills, he knew the others would have taken the most direct route. He kept his eyes trained to the ground anyway out of habit as he made his way through the forest now. This part of Georgia was covered in dense forest and the undergrowth here was thick. He could easily spot the path Rick and the others had taken on their way out, but no tracks indicated that anyone alive had come the other way.

About three miles away from the house Daryl heard a noise from the undergrowth just ahead. He'd encountered three walkers so far, noticing them early as they crashed through the forest and dispatching them all easily. He now trained his crossbow on the bushes in front of him.

But it wasn't walkers. Daryl hastily lowered the crossbow when he recognized T-Dog through the leaves. He was supporting Glenn, who was limping heavily. Glenn spotted Daryl first and nudged T-Dog.

"Daryl, it's you. We thought we'd see you soon." Glenn looked pale and didn't put any pressure on his right foot.

"Wha' happened? Where's Rick?"

The initial relief Daryl had felt when he had recognized the two men gave way to dread when he realized that there was no third person following behind.

T-Dog looked miserable. "We lost him."

"Lost him?"

Glenn spoke again. "Yesterday, close to the town. We climbed down this ravine, rounded a bend and found ourselves surrounded by walkers. There were so many, we just had to run for it. Somehow we got separated. I hurt my ankle and T-Dog found me eventually, but we couldn't find Rick. We spent all day looking, and when it got dark we hid in this old logger's cabin. This morning my ankle's worse, so we decided the best thing to do was to come back and get help."

Daryl didn't want to lose any time. Rick was out there somewhere, on his own. "Describe the place you lost him."

T-Dog answered this time. "About two and a half miles south from here, a pretty big ravine. It's not far from the town, you can't miss it. It'll still be swarming with walkers. It's really boggy, so be careful when you go in.

"I think Rick might have gone towards town, but because of Glenn's ankle I couldn't drag him too close. We couldn't have run."

Glenn looked at Daryl with real worry and his voice was urgent. "Daryl, you have to find Rick. We need to get out of here as quickly as we can. There are too many walkers, and they're coming this way."


	6. Chapter 6

Rick and Lori fought a lot in the weeks after they lost the farm. Soon they were barely speaking. Daryl knew how cut up Rick was about it all, especially because there was no way to hide it from Carl.

Everyone seemed to know about the baby now, and about Shane. Daryl never found out how they knew, but it didn't matter anyway. What was done, was done. They'd just have to deal with it. And that was getting harder as the weeks went by.

To begin with it had been an inconvenience that they hadn't been able to stay anywhere for more than a night or two. Then, as the food situation deteriorated, it became torture. Every single one of them was exhausted, there were fights and tears almost every day.

Daryl couldn't sleep, even when they were relatively safe. He'd wake up after an hour, sometimes two, more often than not bathed in sweat, heart racing, unable to recall the nightmare that had woken him. Exhaustion, constant tension and lack of food gave him a raging headache that never really went away.

The only time he could relax at all was when he went out to hunt. He still preferred to go out alone, and the others mostly let him, unless Rick thought it was too dangerous. Daryl was touched by Rick's concern, and he put up with the company when he had to, but really craved the solitude.

It was about six weeks since they'd been forced out into the woods. Hershel was trying to keep track of the days but for Daryl it hardly mattered. All he knew was that it was getting colder, and time was running out for them if they wanted to find permanent shelter before the really bad weather hit.

Rick had been under extreme pressure this last week. Lori was physically strong but it was getting harder for her to endure the constant travel. She was pale and gaunt, despite all of them trying to give her as much food as they possibly could. And she'd become short-tempered, mostly taking it out on Rick, sometimes on Carl. Daryl had had to bite back his anger several times, but it was hard when she attacked Rick and he could do nothing to help.

That morning Lori had screamed at Rick for so long, he'd actually snapped. Throwing down the bag he was just packing he'd rounded on her and snarled back. Daryl hadn't heard exactly what he said because Rick usually got really quiet when he was angry. But he'd gotten the gist. When they set off Rick had driven one car and Lori had been in the other. Daryl had sat in the front passenger seat next to Rick and had felt the other man's barely concealed anger and frustration throughout the drive. He'd not been sorry to get out of the car when they stopped for the night.

Now everyone was settled into their latest hideout. This one was more peculiar than most. They'd been trying to get to a shopping mall Maggie had remembered a few days ago. When they'd gotten close they'd realized that they would never be able to get in. The place was completely overrun.

Not far from the mall, however, they'd come across a storage facility which had looked deserted. They'd broken in easily and had set up camp in a couple of storage lockers. The main administrative building had been recently damaged by fire, but the lockers, having been built to be reasonably fire proof, had mostly been untouched. It was a drafty, uncomfortable place to spend the night, but they were hopeful that they'd find some useful things in the lockers.

Food, however, was in short supply. Daryl, not having taken his eyes off Rick once all day, and increasingly concerned with his persistently dark mood, had had an idea. He went over to where Rick was arranging their meagre supplies.

"Thought I'd go rustle up some squirrels." He lowered his voice. "Wanna come with?"

Rick looked up at him, then glanced over to where Lori was busy with Carl.

"Yeah, I do."

-.-

They'd gone far into the woods, and hadn't exchanged a word in almost an hour. Daryl felt some of the tension drain away from his mind as they went further and further into the forest. His headache had receded and he'd focused mostly on tracking something, anything, to eat. He'd also kept his senses alert for any changes in Rick's mood, and he was relieved when he could feel the other man relax somewhat as well.

So far they'd bagged five squirrels. Everyone was getting sick of squirrel stew, but they were the easiest thing to catch, and they were better than nothing. Daryl pushed through some undergrowth and saw a creek bed not far ahead. He motioned to Rick.

"Good place for a rest."

They both had a drink of water from the clear, cold stream and then settled on the opposite bank on a fallen tree. The day had been overcast but some rays of winter sunshine were now breaking through the clouds. Daryl looked at Rick's profile from the corner of his eye. The man looked exhausted, and there was still a frown creasing his brow. But he'd closed his eyes and was holding his face up to catch a few elusive glimmers from the sun. Daryl supposed this was as relaxed as any of them would get for a while to come.

Rick, maybe feeling Daryl's scrutiny, turned his head and looked at him. He smiled a sad little smile.

"This is nice. Thanks for taking me along."

"Looked like y'needed some down time. Y'know y'can always come when I go hunt, right?"

For a reply Rick leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Daryl's lips. They hadn't had much opportunity to be alone together since that night on the veranda, and a few quick kisses here and there was all they'd shared. Daryl closed his eyes and savored the sensation of Rick's mouth, his stubble against his face and his hand threading through his hair.

Rick moved closer, and Daryl leaned in until their bodies were intertwined. He could feel himself responding, and he prayed that they'd get a few minutes without walkers or goodness knew what disturbing them. His need to have Rick, be his all the way, had become so strong it was almost as constant an ache as his headaches.

Rick seemed to feel the same. He put a hand on the front of Daryl's pants and pulled out of the kiss with a questioning look. Daryl could see his own need reflected in the blue eyes only inches away. He gave a small nod, and slid off the log. The ground was cool beneath the layer of leaves and needles, but he hardly noticed it as he lay back, pulling Rick with him until the other man's weight rested on him almost completely. The need to feel the other's body, to have Rick close, sense his heartbeat, was almost overwhelming. Through two layers of clothing he could feel Rick's erection press against his own.

"Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

Rick needed no other encouragement. He shifted himself over to one side, to give them both access to the buttons and zippers that had to come undone. There was no question of taking off all of their clothes, it was simply too cold. Daryl fumbled with his own fly until Rick, having made shorter work with his own, came to his aid. Daryl felt the buttons come undone and he leaned back and moaned as the cold air hit his heated flesh the moment Rick pulled his pants down.

Rick freed himself from his clothes and Daryl looked the man up and down. He wished they could do this properly, clothes crumpled at the foot of a bed, warm, dry and ready to go all night. But they'd have to make do. Daryl stopped Rick as he started moving into position. He lifted himself off the ground, pushed his pants and underwear off all the way, shrugged out of his jacket and put it on the ground.

"Better access, and fewer needles," he said, and positioned himself on the jacket on his knees, leaning over and resting his arms on the tree trunk they'd been sitting on. He looked at Rick, who nodded and smiled.

"Good thinking."

Rick positioned himself behind Daryl, sinking to one knee. Daryl could feel Rick's hands gently on his hips and buttocks, caressing the cooling skin until goosebumps started appearing. Daryl could feel his erection respond eagerly.

There was a pause and Rick's hands stayed still for a long moment. Daryl looked back at a frown on Rick's face.

"Something t'matter?" Daryl found it hard to concentrate on anything other than this need to feel Rick inside him, but he didn't want to go on if the other man wasn't ready.

Rick looked up. "We have no lube."

"Spit will do, Rick, I don't mind."

Rick still looked doubtful. "It'll hurt, though. I'll be careful, but…"

Daryl smiled. The concern Rick showed him was touching and gave him a warm glow that was as welcome as the physical contact.

"I trust you, man. It'll be great, no matter what."

Daryl was relieved to see Rick nod. He didn't want to make the other man uncomfortable, but he also didn't want to wait any longer. Rick moved in closer and Daryl dropped his head. He could hear Rick preparing himself, and then, finally, he could feel Rick's dick pressing against his opening.

Daryl braced himself. Despite what he'd said to Rick, and despite his overwhelming need to do this he knew it was going to hurt.

Rick pushed in ever so slowly, and Daryl bit his lip. The sensation was both agony and ecstasy. He didn't push back, just tried to take deep breaths and relax around Rick, accommodate him as he slid in inch by inch. Finally Daryl could feel Rick's pelvis press against him. He let himself relax another notch, then nodded over his shoulder.

Rick looked relieved. He started moving slowly, and as Daryl responded with low groans and gasps he picked up speed. Daryl liked being taken from behind, it always stimulated his prostate better than if he was facing his partner. There was one more adjustment needed to make this perfect.

Daryl pushed himself off the trunk and lifted his upper body, then shifted his weight and placed his left foot on the ground instead of his knee. Rick, realizing what he was doing, put an arm over his shoulder and down his torso, pulling him close against his chest. The movements that were possible in this position were much more limited, but the angle was just right for Daryl to reach maximum arousal. He took his own dick into his hand and started stroking in unison with Rick's gentle thrusts.

"'m not gonna last, man…"

Daryl could actually feel Rick's smile against his neck. "Go ahead. I got ya."

And Daryl let go. The orgasm washed over him like a tidal wave, crowding out headache, tiredness, hunger and all of his worries. He arched his back, leaning into Rick as he gasped and writhed in the other man's arms. And then Rick was there with him. He was panting hard against Daryl's neck then suddenly, with a groan, he tightened his grip on Daryl, thrusting in hard and deep, and then was almost still.

They rode it out together, not breaking apart for a long time.


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl had told Glenn and T-Dog to get back to the others as quickly as possible and warn them that they should be ready to move as soon as he and Rick returned. He'd also told them to get everyone moving without him and Rick if the walker herd moving in their direction became any threat at all.

He'd then moved on in the direction of the town. T-Dog had mentioned an old abandoned factory on the outskirts. "Good a place to hole up in as any," he'd said, and Daryl was planning to check it out.

As he moved through the forest the headache that had plagued him on and off since the farm returned. He'd been mostly pain free the last few weeks, but he'd run out of painkillers a couple of days ago and since then the familiar throbbing in his temples had started to return. Nothing to do now but push through it. He had to find Rick.

Warned about the ravine full of walkers Daryl skirted it when it came in sight. He could see how it made traveling easier because the forest was getting unusually dense here. But at least the undergrowth didn't try to take a bite out of you every two steps.

Finally the brush cleared and Daryl shielded his eyes from the glare which was making his head throb, even though the sky was overhung. He'd learned that light sensitivity was never a good sign, and knew the headache would get a lot worse before it got better.

Across an expanse of dead grass he could spot the factory. The odd walkers were dotted between him and the factory, but as long as he didn't move too slowly they shouldn't be any trouble. He pulled the knife from his belt and squared his shoulders. Squinting, trying to ignore the spots dancing before his eyes and the nausea threatening to creep up, Daryl ducked low and started towards the factory.


	8. Chapter 8

Daryl had come unraveled a week after their first time in the forest. They had only stayed at the storage lockers one night, and it had been a miserable one. They had the first really cold spell that night and none of them could get warm enough to go to sleep. The next day Maggie had complained about a sore throat and soon all of them had been feeling ill with flu to varying degrees.

After the lockers they'd spent a couple of days in relative comfort holed up in a small office building and had been able to rest more easily. Now, after a week of coughing, sneezing and fevers everyone was starting to feel better. Everyone except Daryl. The flu hadn't gotten to him as much as to the others, but the constant sneezing and coughing from virtually everyone had made it even more impossible for him to stay asleep at night. His latent headache had reached the proportion of a full-blown migraine.

They had been driving along country lanes all day, looking for a lonely farmstead or small hamlet off the beaten track. After a few days with little walker activity their luck had run out about two days ago and they'd been on the move almost constantly.

Daryl was riding in the passenger seat next to Rick. Over the last few hours he'd been in pure agony. He hadn't told anyone about his headaches so far, reckoning that none of them could do anything about it so discussing it was pointless. Now, though, his vision had started to blur and he knew it was only a matter of time, and a very short time at that, until the nausea would turn to real sickness. The thought had barely crossed his mind when a blinding stab of pain behind his eyes tipped him over the edge.

"Stop t'car, Rick."

Rick threw him a puzzled look but pulled over right away. Daryl was out of the car in a second. He only managed a few step before his whole world gave an almighty lurch and he staggered, struggling to stay upright. His stomach turned over and he bent double, retching. There was hardly anything to come up, but his aching head evidently hadn't gotten that message. He couldn't stop the retching for a long time, each convulsion shooting a new bolt of agony through his head. The stomach acid burned his throat and tears started running down his face from the pain.

The nausea finally receded somewhat, but when Daryl tried to straighten up everything started to spin and he staggered, almost losing his balance. Then Rick was there, catching hold of him as his knees threatened to give way and held him fast.

"I got ya."

For what felt like a long time Rick just held him, until the world slowed its spinning motion and his vision cleared. He finally became aware of the others staring and gently disentangled himself from Rick.

"S'alright now."

But Rick wouldn't let him go completely. He supported Daryl back to the car and helped him lower himself into the passenger seat, feet still out on the ground. Then Rick crouched down and looked at Daryl with a searching expression on his face.

"What was that all about?"

Daryl hesitated, but he knew Rick wouldn't let it go. Besides, his head still felt like it would burst any moment, and he wasn't at all sure he could hold it together when they continued driving.

"'s my head, feels like it's gonna split in two."

Rick frowned, then motioned to Hershel who'd been hovering close by. Daryl leaned sideways into the seat. He closed his eyes for a moment, and the darkness behind his lids was a relief.

He could hear Hershel's voice. "Have you ever suffered from migraines before?"

Daryl started to shake his head, then winced. That wasn't a good idea. "No," he said instead. Hershel didn't try to touch him, for which Daryl was grateful. Instead he went and rummaged in his bag.

"Some painkillers," he said when he came back. Daryl opened his eyes and accepted them, together with a bottle of water.

They waited another ten minutes for the pills to take the edge off, everyone giving Daryl his space, but throwing him anxious glances now and then. Daryl hated being the centre of attention, and to avoid seeing them all tiptoeing around him he sat back in the seat and closed his eyes.

The rest of the drive had gone by in a daze. Daryl had tried to concentrate on keeping his body in check, mostly keeping his eyes closed to avoid the light slicing into his brain. They had finally settled on a house that stood away from the main road they'd been following.

There had been several walkers lurking in the vicinity and it took the group longer than usual to clear the house itself. Daryl knew they were aware that they'd most likely be laid up for a few days and would need a solid hideout. He hated the thought that he was holding them all up, but he was sure that he wouldn't be able to travel for a while, and was grateful that the others took such care to ensure he'd have somewhere relatively safe to recover.

Once the house was clear Rick had come to get him from the car. Daryl was still feeling wobbly, and also quite sick again, but Rick held him carefully and made sure he got inside quickly. He carried on through the living room, though, where they usually camped all together.

"Where're we going?"

"First room off the hall has a bed. We've pulled down the blinds, and it'll be quieter than here with us. You need to sleep, man."

"Bed sounds nice."

Daryl felt a rush of gratitude for Rick. He let himself be led down the hall. In the darkened room he crawled onto the bed with Rick's help, stretched out and closed his eyes. It was a relief to be out of the light, out of the car. He heard Rick move around the room, then felt him sit down on the mattress.

Next, he felt something cool and wet on his forehead. He brought a hand up and it alighted on Rick's pressing a wet cloth to his forehead. For a moment Daryl held on to the other man's hand with a sigh. The coolness of the cloth was bliss. Rick squeezed his hand and pulled away. Daryl felt him shift on the bed.

"Take these."

Daryl opened his eyes and saw Rick hold out some more painkillers and water. He swallowed the pills, then lay back. Rick gazed down at him, looking concerned. Daryl attempted a smile.

"S'ok, man. Thanks for taking care of me."

Rick nodded, briefly held Daryl's hand that was lying between them on the mattress and stood up.

"Get some sleep."

He left, and Daryl closed his eyes. Finally, for the first time in days, he felt the tension ease in his mind and body, and it took only moments for him to fall asleep.

-.-

Daryl woke to complete darkness, and a strange softness all around him. It took him a full minute to remember what had happened, and why he was lying in a bed. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool, but the throbbing had eased. The nausea had mostly passed, too, though he felt quite thirsty.

Then he realized what had woken him. Quiet footsteps, then the feeling of a body carefully lowered onto the mattress behind him. Daryl didn't need to look who it was, he knew it could only be Rick. The other man stretched out next to him and lay very still.

Daryl turned around. He could barely make out Rick's outline in the almost complete darkness.

"Hey."

Rick shifted to face him. "Didn't mean to wake you."

Daryl made a dismissive noise. "Nah. Glad you did."

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Hmm." Daryl reached out until his fingers touched Rick's face. "Stay w'me a bit?"

"I was hoping to, yeah." Rick's smile was evident under Daryl's fingers.

Daryl scooted closer and Rick pulled him into a hug. Daryl's head came to rest on Rick's shoulder and he relaxed into the embrace. He felt like the awful headaches had almost been worth it just for this.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time Daryl had scaled the fence to the factory all he wanted to do was crawl into a dark hole and die. His head was pounding, he felt sick and shivery and he had barely even the strength to get up from the ground where he'd crashed down hard when dropping down from the chain link fence.

Luckily there were no walkers in sight just now, which gave Daryl time to gather his wits somewhat. He knew he had to get out of the light, he could see nothing but spots dancing before his eyes. Squinting, he could just about make out the closest building.

He aimed for that, noting as he tried to walk in as straight a line as he could manage that it looked like a small workshop. It seemed connected to the rest of the factory, so maybe he could search the building without coming back outside again.

Daryl entered the workshop carefully, holding his crossbow cocked at the ready. The ground floor seemed deserted, and completely empty. As his eyes got used to the darker interior his headache receded a bit. He knew he should probably rest for a few minutes but he didn't want to do that before he had made sure the workshop was empty.

There was a stepladder to his right which seemed to be leading to a half-floor made of timber. Daryl shouldered his crossbow and started to climb the ladder. The headache had brought on a peculiar ringing in his ears, but Daryl was pretty sure he could hear something above him. He couldn't tell whether it sounded like something alive or not, which bothered him. He peered over the edge of the raised floor and saw a room full of spare machine parts.

He clambered up the rest of the way more clumsily than usual. There was that noise again. Daryl wished he could just sit down and rest, his head was pounding with every heartbeat. Instead he took a deep breath and raised his crossbow again. He peered carefully behind the nearest pile of stuff, then the next. Suddenly there was a sound from behind, and he wheeled around. A rotting figure was coming at him from behind one of the large pieces of junk he'd just passed.

Contemplating vaguely that his instincts really weren't up to scratch right now and finding the creature in front of him unusually fast, he took a step back. The planks beneath him creaked, there was a deafening bang and suddenly the walker, and the entire room, vanished.

-.-

Daryl came to under a pile of rotting planks, metal debris and a walker. He didn't know how long he'd been out cold, but he knew almost right away how lucky he'd been. The walker who had startled him up in that storage room was still snapping at him, but he'd gotten pinned down under some decommissioned machine that had come crashing down with them when the floor gave way and couldn't move any closer.

Looking up Daryl could see a sizeable hole in the ceiling about fifteen feet above. Together with him and the walker a jumble of mostly metal parts had come down, but despite the racket he'd been lucky again. Apart from that one walker nothing was stirring, even though the crash must have been deafening.

Daryl tried to move from under the debris that had fallen on top of him. As soon as he tried an excruciating pain shot through his side. His right arm felt like it was on fire, and he nearly passed out again. Lying back, taking deep breaths, Daryl waited for the spots to stop flashing before his eyes and tried again. Moving carefully he slid out from under the rubble without using his right arm, which was feeling numb and weak.

When he was out he tried to get to his feet, but failed to even make it into a sitting position for several minutes. His head was pure agony again, and when he touched his left temple his hand came away sticky with blood. He felt very sick.

Finally, using the wall for support, Daryl managed to get to his feet. When he straightened up the building started to spin and he couldn't control the sickness any longer. As he hadn't eaten anything all day there was only bile to bring up, which burned his throat. He retched for a long time, head pounding madly, and when it finally stopped he felt utterly defeated.

But he couldn't afford to break down now. Who knew how many walkers were making their way towards him after all the noise, and he still had no idea what had happened to Rick. When Daryl thought he could walk halfway upright without falling over he pushed himself away from the wall and made his way across the room to the door which, he assumed, must be leading to the rest of the factory.

He couldn't move his right arm. It felt hot and numb, and he guessed that the shoulder must be dislocated. He could also tell that several ribs on the right were cracked, and he found it difficult to draw breath.

Behind the door was a long, dark corridor. Daryl didn't mind the gloom, it gave his head some relief, but he found it unnerving not to be able to see any potential threats. Luckily nothing stirred as he moved towards the light at the end, indicating the door into the factory proper.

The door led to a vast factory floor. Here it was obvious that the place had been deserted for a long time. Part of the far wall had caved in, and the whole structure looked unstable. Daryl had to shield his eyes against the light, struggling with his crossbow which he couldn't lift in his battered arm.

He became aware of another noise. It sounded like more walkers, scrabbling somewhere on the walls. Training his crossbow with the left, Daryl moved across the floor towards the caved in outer wall. There were some deep pits down here, but Daryl couldn't even fathom what they'd been used for once.

He looked into the first one and could spot two almost dead walkers. When he moved to the next, however, his heart almost stopped.

Rick was lying at the bottom, trapped under rubble.


	10. Chapter 10

"Rick? Rick!"

Rick looked up at Daryl, his eyes a bit out of focus. "Daryl, is that you?"

"Yeah. Y'all right? Can y'move?"

"I'm stuck. I think my leg's broken. I can't shift this stuff." Daryl could see at least two dead walkers in the rabble around Rick.

"I'll come down."

Daryl carefully got down on his knees, then lowered himself into a sitting position, legs dangling into the pit. It was about eight or nine feet deep. He wasn't sure this was the smartest move, they might both get stuck in this hole. In his condition he might not be able to free Rick and get them both out again. But lacking a better idea he tried to lower himself in carefully.

The drop was greater than he had anticipated, and it jarred both his head and his ribs. He tried to straighten up from where he'd landed, but his knees gave way and he crumpled to the ground. He stayed where he was for a moment, head down, eyes closed, just trying to get his breath back, get over the nausea.

"Daryl, are you all right? What happened to your arm?"

When he looked up he saw that Rick's eyes, despite his own impossible situation, were full of concern.

"'s that headache. Got careless, fell through a floor."

Daryl tried again to stand and this time succeeded. He went over to Rick and assessed the situation. He'd already moved quite a few bricks off his legs, but Daryl could see where the problem was. A beam had fallen and wedged itself in such a way that Rick couldn't reach some of the large parts of concrete that pinned it to the floor. His lower leg was trapped at an uncomfortable-looking angle. At least Daryl couldn't see any blood.

Daryl put down the crossbow and was just about to crouch down to see how best to tackle this with only one functioning arm when Rick spoke again.

"Come here. You look ready to keel over, take a break first."

Rick half sat up and reached a hand out to Daryl, and actually helped him down to the ground when he relented and came over. Daryl leaned against the wall at an angle to where Rick was lying so that he could see his face.

Rick looked at Daryl with a worried frown. "You don't look so good, man. Here," he felt the ground next to his side and produced a water bottle. "Drink something."

Daryl shook his head. "Save it. You'll need it soon."

Rick looked at him sternly. "Drink. Don't argue."

Daryl relented. He accepted the bottle and took a sip. The cool liquid soothed his throat. He hadn't even realized how parched he was. It had been stupid of him to leave without water. One more thing for the list of stupid things he'd done that day.

"What happened?" Daryl asked finally, gesturing at the debris.

Rick snorted. "I was being stupid. These two here," he pointed at the dead walkers, "came at me and I managed to get them to fall in here. Unfortunately, that wall there then decided to come down and throw me in, too. Have been trying to get free ever since."

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Rick shook his head. "I don't think so. That leg's hurting like a bitch, though. Otherwise I'd probably been able to wriggle it free."

"Let's get you out." Daryl half crawled, half clambered over to where Rick's leg was trapped. It took him almost an hour to dig Rick out, and by the end he was feeling faint from the effort. He'd had to stop several times, put his head between his knees and let the sickness pass. And as much as Rick was trying to help he couldn't reach most of the rubble that was trapping him, and the heavy lifting fell to Daryl. He didn't mind, of course, but with one arm, and the constant pain, it was no easy job.

Then, finally, Rick was able to pull his leg free. Daryl had to lift the beam that had pinned it down only a couple of inches, but the effort had been considerable. He let go of the beam the moment Rick was free and it dropped with a thud. There was a ringing in Daryl's ears and his vision faded to black. He tried to catch himself with his good arm as he fell but he came down hard enough for a stab of pain from his shoulder that knocked the last bit of consciousness from him.

-.-

Daryl woke up with his head in Rick's lap. He blinked, trying to remember where they were and why he was lying on the ground. Then it all came back, and with it the pain. His shoulder must have hit the ground after all, it was shooting daggers of pain through him now with every heartbeat. Daryl groaned, willing himself not to be sick.

Rick brushed some strands of hair off his forehead. "You fell pretty hard, did you land on that shoulder?"

Daryl nodded. Rick said, "This will sound like a terrible idea, but I don't think we'll make it out of here unless I set that arm."

Daryl nodded. He'd had the same thought.

"It'll hurt."

Daryl gritted his teeth.

"I know. Jus' get it over with."

Rick shrugged off his jacket and placed it under Daryl's head. Then he scooted around to Daryl's right side, staying off his own injured leg. He took Daryl's arm in both hands.

"Why d'you know how to do this?"

"Carol showed me. Try to relax, this is going to be bad."

Daryl looked away. He tried to breathe normally and to let go of the tension, both of which seemed impossible. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't have batted an eyelid at a dislocated shoulder. Merle had set his arm for the first time when they were still kids, after Daryl had fallen out of a tree, and he remembered it hurting, but only for a second. Now, just Rick holding his arm was agony.

Rick of course was as gentle as he could be, and still Daryl was trying to suppress the urge to writhe away. He finally felt a pop in the shoulder, then everything turned briefly black again. It didn't take him long to come round, but when he did he was shaking and covered in sweat.

He met Rick's eyes, which were full of shared pain. "I'm sorry, man."

Daryl shook his head, trying to sit up. "Never mind, had to be done. Let's get outta here."

They both weren't exactly sure how to start, but finally settled on climbing out via the rubble, which gave them some foothold to work with. Daryl supported Rick as he clambered out first, then slowly clambered up after him. There was a moment of panic when Daryl's foot slid on some loose scree and an agonizing pain in his side almost made him lose consciousness again. He braced himself against the rim of the pit and rode it out. Finally, the sensation subsided and he was able to scramble out fully.

Both of them collapsed on the ground, panting hard. This had been bad, but Daryl knew the next bit would be worse.

"Need t'get back quick as we can. T-Dog said more'n more walkers are headin' our way."

Rick nodded. "I came in over the fence, but I don't think we can go out that way, in this state. There must be a gate, let's try and find that."

But as Daryl shifted his weight to try and get up Rick put his hand on his arm. He leaned in close and kissed Daryl gently. Daryl leaned into the kiss, grateful for a moment of tenderness in this haze of pain and desperation. When they broke apart Rick looked at him with such intensity, it felt to Daryl as if the other was desperately trying to commit every inch of him to memory.

"I knew you would find me." Rick's voice was low, and he didn't sound entirely pleased. "I was hoping you wouldn't risk it, wouldn't wager your own life for mine, but I knew you would. This," he motioned at Daryl's shoulder, his head, "is what I was afraid would happen. That you'd come, no matter the consequences."

Daryl felt a stab of sadness, but then Rick continued. "And yet, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad you came. That it was you who found me. If we don't make it back, at least the last thing I see in this life is you."


End file.
